


Walking With Ghosts

by AntigravityDevice



Category: The Walking Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Yuletide Treat, post-season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5510735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntigravityDevice/pseuds/AntigravityDevice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clementine walks with two ghosts: one of the past, and one of the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking With Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Andraste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andraste/gifts).



Moss and dry twigs crunch softly under Clementine's careful steps. She likes this forest the best out of several she's trekked through; likes the evergreen needles, the cool air the sun can't reach through the thick canopy, the springy mounds of moss. It's easy to move quietly over them. It's like a thick, dirty carpet.

There's no reason for her to be quiet now, since they haven't seen walkers for days. People didn't live here. She hasn't even seen a single camping site. Clementine's a little quiet anyway, avoiding a big, dry branch that would snap apart under her shoe. Her big, heavy, stuffed shoe. Maybe she'll grow into the pair one day. Until then, she wears three pairs of socks of mismatched pairs and steps carefully. It's not just herself she's keeping safe, after all.

AJ's being very good, just letting out low gurgles every now and then. He's snug as a bug against Clementine's back, wrapped up warmly, the straps firm and holding. His even weight feels nice on her shoulders. It isn't a burden. It makes her feel like she can carry the world.

 _It makes me feel like I'm strong_ , she thinks, then for some reason, wants to say it aloud. ”I'm being strong,” she tells AJ, the forest, herself. She wants to say it so Christa can hear, wants her to know somehow, wherever she is, and right after that thought comes another that hurts and hurts.

”I'm being strong,” she whispers to Lee, who isn't there, will never be again.

A squirrel rattles the branches above her. It's eating up there. Clementine peers at it; the thin little thing, maybe just a baby. She'd eat it if she was hungry enough, but it wouldn't be worth the trouble. She's learned: no use wasting all that energy on a mouthful. Besides, her pockets are full.

”We can eat when we reach that tower,” she tells AJ, who doesn't bother to gurgle in response.

Clementine lets herself continue imagining Lee there. Imagining his approval.

_You're right, sweetpea. Best keep moving until we get there._

She's a little sick to her stomach with how horrible and good it feels at the same time, make-believing that Lee's by her side. That if she reached up her hand, he would take it, and she'd only have to follow and be safe.

She adjusts AJ on her back, although the fit is already perfect, and walks on.

The tower's not painted, just wood-colored, and would blend into the surroundings if it didn't stand alone in a clearing. Clementine approaches it carefully, pausing behind trees, but nothing stirs. It's bigger than she first thought when she saw it in the distance. It's like a treehouse built on tall legs without a tree; there's a hatch that leads up into the house part, and it's open. The ladder doesn't look good, the wood half rotten through, but she may be able to use it as leverage to jump up and reach the hatch. It's dark up there, but she's not been afraid of the dark for a long time, not the quiet kind of dark. AJ is very quiet now, too. The soft noises mean he's sucking on his fingers.

”Hold on,” Clementine tells him, as if he's going to wriggle free, and jumps, feeling her shoes weighing her down.

What's left of the ladder splinters under her weight, but she reaches up in time. Her fingers grasp the edge of the worn floorboards. When she's just bringing her knee up, a hand suddenly reaches out for her from the dark above. It gropes at her shoulder, at AJ behind it, and she makes a choked, panicked noise. The moment she does, the rest of the walker surges forward.

 _They're super good at hearing human noises_ , she thinks, in the split second she bites her lip and lets herself fall back down. The moss is sparse in the clearing, and she lands badly; she doesn't have time to plan it at all, and her clumsy foot slips. AJ starts crying, tossed about in his harness. He's scared, and the sound cuts into her, but she doesn't have time for him. The walker follows her, head first to the ground without trying to shield itself, like no person ever falls. Some of its rotten bits break away as it crawls closer on its hands and knees. It had a beard once. A long beard, not like Lee's.

Clementine turns to face the walker, because she has to get herself between it and AJ, and scrambles up onto her feet in time to sidestep another grab. After the initial surprise, she's calm, reaching for the hammer under her coat. She knows what to do. The walker's already down. All she has to do is get close enough. She wishes so hard it hurts that AJ would stop wailing.

They can be fast, she knows, but they're stupid, falling for the same tricks every time. Clementine fakes a lunge to one side, and jumps the other way instead. One step, and she's behind the walker. One second is all she needs. The walker starts to turn its head, but she's already bringing the hammer down. Brittle bone cracks under the dirty brown hair. She yanks the hammer back, because she can't allow it to get stuck, and hits again, smashes at the stinking, rotting softness inside, and AJ keeps screaming.

When the walker collapses and doesn't move anymore, she stands there breathing for a while. Her hammer looks disgusting. She can't put it under her coat. AJ's started to hiccup, too tired to keep crying that hard. If the sound hasn't brought out anything else, the tower should be empty.

”Shh, it's okay,” she tells AJ, dropping the hammer and carefully slipping the straps from her shoulders in order to hold him. ”It's okay, we got it. We got it. It's safe now.”

AJ turns his head away, and pushes at her face with his little hands, like he doesn't even know her. Clementine ignores the lurch of helplessness in her stomach, and tries patting his back, like she knows to do after feeding him. She's a good big sister. She knows what to do. Between two snotty sobs, AJ lets out a loud burp. She can't help laughing at it, and AJ's so surprised he stops sobbing altogether and stares at her.

”Okay.” Clementine wipes his face with her sleeve the best she can, and secures him to her back again. ”Let's see how we can get up there.”

The ladder's completely useless, and there are no big branches around that she could use. After only a moment of hesitation, she grabs hold of the walker that doesn't walk anymore and drags it closer to the hatch. Its flesh is slippery and smells, but if she props it up, she can stand on its shoulders and just reach the edge of the hatch. AJ is heavy, her shoes are heavy, and her arms and back feel fire-hot and shaky with the strain, but she gets them both up in the end. The floorboards are cool under her face when she throws herself down. She lies there for a while and waits for the ache to go away. AJ wriggles restlessly on her back, but she's too tired to even say anything to him.

The only light comes from the hatch, so when Clementine finds the strength to sit up, she takes the candle from her pocket and the matches she keeps in a candy bar wrapper. The place reminds her a little of the ski lodge. There's a green backpack in the corner, a big one, with a sleeping bag tied to it. The poster on the wall has a list of Observation Tower Rules and pictures of birds. The window has a shutter that still works, and she pulls it open. Better save the candle. There's a lot of daylight left.

Her foot hits something heavy and hard when she turns around. She picks it up: a gun. A rifle, too big to hold properly. There's dried blood on the wall. The walker below probably died here first. She wonders who shot him. At least they're not around anymore.

Clementine puts both the thought and the rifle away, and unstraps AJ, sighing at the relief. His weight seems to creep on her, little by little.

”This place looks safe for tonight,” Clementine tells him, and positions herself between the open hatch and him. At least the cover is still intact, but it might not hold even AJ's weight. She closes it anyway.

AJ gurgles eagerly and crawls towards her. He's become faster, his hands grasping everything in his path. Clementine takes his fingers and gently pries them off the pipe of the rifle, pushing it further away.

”Right, AJ. Dinner time.”

The jars and cans are in her pockets. Carefully, she holds AJ in her lap, and opens the lid of one of the two cans, pouring the thick liquid into AJ's bottle. Baby bottles are easy to find. She usually switches to a new one whenever she finds them, but this one's good, just the right size, and she's held onto it. AJ doesn't seem to like it now, though. He screws his face up and turns away, struggling in her hold.

”I know, it's yucky. But you have to. Look, look, I'll show you.”

Clementine makes herself sip the lukewarm formula. The milky taste rolls over her tongue and alights a memory in her mind.

_”Go on, Clem. It's all they could find. You have to eat something.”_

_”I don't want to. It's baby food. I'm not a baby.”_

_”No, of course you're not. You're a big, brave girl, and I wanna keep you that way. That's it. It's not that bad, is it? Like cookies with milk, just without the cookies.”_

_”Mm. You can have the rest if you want, Lee.”_

_”Nah, you eat up. You've got more growing to do than me.”_

”You eat up,” Clementine tells AJ, but her voice is quiet, and not a bit like Lee's. Not a bit.

AJ doesn't know that. After some more fussing, he gives in and drinks. He must've been hungry. Clementine's own stomach rumbles and aches.

Once AJ's eaten, he's content to lie down on Clementine's coat for a while. Clementine rolls open the sleeping bag. It's too big to take with them, but at least tonight they'll be warm and cozy in it. She goes through the contents of the backpack, finding more little treasures: cans of turkey meat, peas, powdered soup, more matches, a metal spork, chocolate bars. There's even a map of the area, and she studies it while eating a dry Snickers bar. She feels pretty pleased when she finds where they are on it.

There's too much food to fit inside her coat, and the backpack is too big for her, especially with AJ. She decides she might as well eat as much as she can now, and opens a can of turkey. It smells like socks, but the first bite is delicious and the next even better, and she finishes the whole can.

”You want to taste some chocolate, AJ? Chocolate? It's nice.”

AJ rolls over, and stares at her with his big dark eyes. His hair has grown and curled, and won't stay hidden under his ear flap hat. He doesn't really look like what she imagined her little brother might be, but it's okay. He's her family now.

Clementine scoops up some of the soft insides of the chocolate bar with her finger, and holds it out for AJ. He sucks on the finger until it's clean of the sticky, sugary stuff. It tickles nicely, and Clementine smiles.

”See? What did I tell you.”

She feels so much like a big sister when AJ makes a happy sort of noise.

It's getting a little chilly without her coat, so she takes off her shoes and opens the sleeping bag. She crawls in after checking that it's clean inside. It's thick and soft, and nothing's felt as comfortable in a long time.

”Maybe I can mix some into your formula, make it chocolate milk,” Clementine says. ”I bet you'd like that better, huh?”

When she looks up, she stops, the chocolate forgotten. AJ's got one hand on the windowsill, and one reaching towards her. He's wobbly on his little feet, but he's standing up on them, for the first time. It doesn't last very long before his knees give out; Clementine hurries to catch him, and gathers him close.

”You almost walked,” she mumbles, and although she's happy for him, she feels like crying, and squeezes him closer. ”Good boy, AJ. Big, brave boy.”

She imagines Lee watching over them, sitting right there beside the window. When she blinks, her eyes aren't heavy with tears anymore.

The sleeping bag becomes their little nest for the night. When the dark settles in, they're already asleep, surrounded by nothing but forest noises, dried chocolate on their lips.

Early in the morning, Clementine jumps down, her little brother on her back. She picks up her hammer and wipes it off, looks at her new map and starts walking. If she closes her eyes, she can already hear AJ's little steps next to hers, snapping twigs, sinking into moss. And by her side, she can hear other steps, too: heavier, reassuring steps.

With the future on her right, and the past on her left, Clementine walks on, and never walks alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to make it explicit in the fic, as it's in Clementine's POV and she has no way of knowing, but this post-season two moment is meant to take place on Christmas Eve.


End file.
